


Half Full, Half Empty

by Melanie_Athene



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Community: discoveredinalj, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_Athene/pseuds/Melanie_Athene
Summary: Doyle sighed and turned his gaze to the golden liquid in his glass.  “Looks like it’s just me and you tonight,” he said.  “Merry Fucking Christmas to me.”
Relationships: William Bodie/Ray Doyle
Kudos: 23





	Half Full, Half Empty

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in Discoveredinalj's Discovered in the Yuletide Spirit Challenge - December 5, 2019. My prompt was 'Lager'.

~*~

  


Bodie scrubbed up well. Sharp suit, polished shoes, not a stray hair out of place. An empty champagne flute dangled carelessly from one hand as he leaned a hip against the bar, chatting up some bird. From the look of things, his evening’s entertainment was in the bag.

Doyle sighed and turned his gaze to the golden liquid in his glass. “Looks like it’s just me and you tonight,” he said. “Merry Fucking Christmas to me.”

God, how he hated these interminable CI5 staff get togethers. He used to love them, of course, back in the day when he was on the hunt for someone to share his bed. The secretarial pool was always full of warm and willing bodies. But then, dumb crud that he was, he had to go and fall for his oblivious partner. Hard. And that was the end of that. Goodbye casual sex, hello pining for something that could never be.

The shrieking fury of a hellcat drew Doyle’s attention from his descent into self pity. He looked up just in time to see the woman toss the remnants of her drink in Bodie’s face before she stormed away.

There was no mistaking the James Bond swagger in Bodie’s step as he approached Doyle’s table. His face was wet, his eyes slightly bloodshot from the sting of the alcohol, but a satisfied smile curved his lips.

“What was that about then?” Doyle asked, pushing a chair out with a trainer clad foot.

“Oh, I just broke another heart.” Bodie shrugged carelessly. “Wasted her time, apparently.”

“Mmh,” Doyle grunted. “Can see her point. It’s getting late and all the good ones are taken.” 

“Not all of them.”

Doyle’s eyebrow rose questioningly.

“You, you daft sod. I’m talking about you.” Bodie grinned and helped himself to a hearty swig of Doyle’s drink. “I’m not wrong, am I? You are available? And interested?”

“Me?” Doyle sputtered. “But you like—”

“I like _you_ ,” Bodie said. “Never dreamed you’d ever come to think of me that way. But then I glanced over here and saw the sad puss you were pulling, and I thought— I hoped—”

“I—I—”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bodie smirked and smacked his lips. “Champers is all well and good, but I always was more of a lager man. Come on, sunshine. Let’s get you home. Can’t wait to get a taste of you.”


End file.
